


December 21st: Nutcracker Ballet

by IneffableToreshi



Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [22]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: An Ineffable Holiday (Good Omens), Anxious Aziraphale (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Ballet, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has Feelings (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Ineffable Advent, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, References to The Nutcracker, Worried Aziraphale (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-21
Updated: 2019-12-21
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:01:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21879286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableToreshi/pseuds/IneffableToreshi
Summary: This is Day 21 of my Good Omens Advent Calendar for 2019, in which Aziraphale feels he needs to make up for millennia of Crowley's acts of love.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Good Omens Advent Calendar 2019 [22]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1550176
Comments: 8
Kudos: 71





	December 21st: Nutcracker Ballet

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays everyone! I hope you enjoy my Good Omens Advent Calendar! Consider it my Christmas gift to the fandom! And if you want to give me a gift in return, please leave me a comment (I live for them!) and if you're really awesome check out my other stuff by going to my blog over at http://traceytobin.wordpress.com! <3

A thought had occurred to Aziraphale as Crowley flashed a pair of tickets to the sold-out production of The Nutcracker that was being performed that evening. It wasn't an entirely pleasant thought, and so he had to quickly school his reaction so that the demon wouldn't realize that anything was amiss. 

"Oh, darling!" the angel exclaimed (his surprise and delight were, in fact, quite genuine). "However did you get them? They've been sold out for weeks! You didn't ruin anyone else's plans in order to take them, did you?" He said it in a teasing way, and Crowley responded with a hand to his chest in mock offence. 

"How could you possibly think such a thing, angel?" the demon gasped. Then he grinned, and there was that hint of mischievousness that Aziraphale loved so much. "I _may_ have pointed out an extra-exclusive balcony that the staff didn't realize they had and thus hadn't sold the tickets for." 

Aziraphale couldn't help but chuckle. "And this balcony...it didn't happen to spring into existence just as you mentioned it, did it?"

Crowley batted his eyelashes. "What a strange question," he responded playfully. "Are you happy?"

The question made that _thought_ spring back into Aziraphale's mind, but he managed to shunt it aside a moment longer. "My dear, of course I am!" He leaned up and placed a soft, warm kiss on the demon's cheek before clapping his hands together with a wide grin on his face. "I must go pick out something to wear!"

Crowley chuckled. "Do I get to see an outfit from this century tonight?"

Aziraphale huffed, pretending to be annoyed as he made for the stairs that lead to the flat above the bookshop. "I'll see what I can pull off, my love," he called back as he went. 

Safely inside the bedroom, his mind most decidedly _not_ on what he was going to wear to the ballet, Aziraphale clutched a hand to his own chest and groaned. 

The thought had come unbidden the moment he saw the tickets. It had begun as a pleasant musing about how Crowley always did the most wonderful things for him. But it soon devolved in something that made a writhing anxiousness crawl up the angel's chest and into his throat. 

Crowley _always_ did the most wonderful things for Aziraphale. Even since before they'd formed their current relationship. Over the millennia they'd been 'together', Crowley had showered Aziraphale with attention. Dinners, little gifts, popping up out of nowhere to save his holy ass from some inconvenient discorporation or another. Crowley had always shown his love, even when he couldn't say it aloud, even when Aziraphale couldn't accept it. 

And that was the crux of the problem, wasn't it? For millennia Aziraphale had been not only refusing to accept Crowley's love, but also actively denying his own for the demon. 

For six thousand years Crowley had been showering Aziraphale with adoration. Which meant that Aziraphale had a hell of a lot of time to make up for. 

He resolved to begin immediately. 

Crowley's surprise was clear when Aziraphale came down the stairs a short while later wearing a sharp black suit with a solid white bowtie - not a hint of cream or tartan to be found. The demon's eyebrows rose substantially, which caused a minute flush to creep over the angel's face. 

"Well," Aziraphale pointed out, "you did say you wanted something from this century."

Crowley's chuckle was amused as he approached to give a little tug to the angel's lapel. "I was just kidding, you now," he said. "I know how much you love your old clothes. But-" He paused and gnawed a little as his lower lip as he slid his fingers down the seams of the black suit. "-I won't claim that I don't think you look amazing in this…"

Aziraphale let a grin spread across his lips. A little wiggle joined it in conveying how pleased he was. He popped up on his toes to catch Crowley in a soft kiss and was certain to hold the demon's fond gaze. "If you like it, you shall have it," he concluded, and then quickly added, "I love you, darling."

Crowley's amber eyes brightened, as much in surprise as pleasure. "Love you too, angel," he responded with sweet kiss of his own.

That hint of surprise that had been in his eyes, however, only cemented Aziraphale's dedication to proving his affections. It certainly wasn't as though he never said the words, but he clearly wasn't saying them often enough or in spontaneous enough circumstances. This would be rectified. 

Crowley snapped a finger and he was suddenly clothed to match Aziraphale, with the minor change of a blood-red neck tie in place of the angel's bowtie. He pulled a pair of dark glasses from the front pocket, slipped them on, and offered his arm. "Shall we?" 

Aziraphale glanced at the arm and mentally grimaced at the gentlemanly offering. Instead of accepting it, he thought quick. snapped his fingers, and was suddenly pinning a lovely red corsage to Crowley's suit. The demon blinked down at him from behind his glasses, not frowning but definitely caught off guard. Aziraphale simply smiled as he ensured the flower was absolutely perfect, and the moment he was finished _he_ offered _his_ arm. 

Crowley stared at him just a beat too long, and then accepted the arm only to be pulled down into another quick kiss before his angel guided them out the door. 

\-----

Three hours later Aziraphale was leaning over the railing of their private balcony box, gazing down at the dancers who floated gracefully across the stage and hardly seeing any of it. He was hyper-focused on Crowley's mood, which seemed to be unusually contemplative. 

He wondered if he was doing something wrong, and if so, what? He'd spent the evening thus far wracking his brain for every possible way to express his feelings for his demon. He'd taken the lead at lunch, ordering all of Crowley's favorites (mostly copious amounts of liquor, but also a particular dish of barely-cooked beef that Aziraphale himself thought rather disgusting). He'd made a point of gazing lovingly at the demon as they dined, linked their fingers together as they walked, and held doors open when the moment provided. He'd referred to Crowley as "my darling" when speaking to the nice lady at the ticket booth, had made a point of kissing the demon playfully on the cheek as they waited in line, and had worked "I love you" into their conversations no fewer than a dozen times throughout the evening's proceedings thus far. 

But all of it only seemed to be causing Crowley to pull strange faces, if Aziraphale was being honest with himself. He wondered if, perhaps, he was being too 'angelic' about the whole thing. He knew what he himself liked and considered to be beautiful gestures, but perhaps what constituted 'romantic' to Crowley was different. Perhaps the demon would prefer more playful gestures? Or, perhaps...more sexual? The angel bit his lip at that thought. Up until that moment he'd been exceptionally confident in the demon's satisfaction with their sex life, but perhaps there was something...more that Crowley might be interested in? Some offering or concession that Aziraphale could make that would show the demon how much he-

" _Aziraphale._ "

The angel nearly leaped out of his corporation. His face and neck flushed a hot red as he realized Crowley had leaned forward so that their faces were scarcely an inch apart and he hadn't even noticed. 

"Y-yes dearest?" the angel stuttered, forcing a smile. 

Crowley looked down at Aziraphale over the top of his glasses before sighing and removing them completely. There was no one close enough to their private balcony to see his eyes anyway, and he wanted his angel to see all of him when he asked his question. "Angel...are you...trying to prove something?"

Aziraphale opened his mouth, closed it again, felt his skin get a little hotter, and averted his gaze. "I don't- I mean, that is to say… Um…"

Long, graceful fingers reached out to cup the angel's chin and angle it up. A soft smile had touched Crowley's lips, and his eyes were like little pots of honey. "Let me rephrase that," he said. " _Why_ do you _feel_ like you need to prove something?"

Aziraphale fidgeted, his hands working against one another. He wanted to look away from those honey eyes that were seeing through to the core of him, but he also wanted very much to let himself drown in them. "It's just…" He couldn't seem to stop the words from coming out. "You've been _so_ good to me for _such_ a long time, and it occurred to me quite suddenly that I've done very little to reciprocate, so I just-" He swallowed hard and let his gaze flick away for just a moment before looking back up at Crowley from under his eyelashes. "I just want to do whatever I can to prove to you that I love you so much, even though it took me so darn long to show it…"

On the stage below Clara and the Nutcracker floated around each other like delicate flowers weaving around one another in the wind, while hundreds of theatre patrons watched with rapt attention. 

Meanwhile, on the highest balcony in the building - a balcony that had, in fact, not existed until early that very morning - a demon pulled his angel into the type of kiss that made the recipient's toes go numb for an hour afterward.

When Crowley pulled away, Aziraphale felt a sigh fall from his own lips. He felt warm and tingly all over, especially the spot on his chest where Crowley's other hand had pressed during the kiss. 

"Angel," the demon said to regain the angel's attention. "You are the definition of foolishness."

Aziraphale frowned, opened his mouth again, and found it being captured before he could say anything. He let himself melt into the second kiss, letting his anxieties float away on a sea of pleasures, until Crowley gently pulled away again. 

"You've got nothing to prove, and nothing to make up for, angel," the demon insisted. "I was-" (He choked a little on the word.) "-good to you over the years because it was what I wanted to do...to show the feelings I couldn't express out loud and couldn't deny inside. End of story." He let the hand on Aziraphale's chin stroke backwards until his fingers were carding through soft white curls. "But you outshone all of those moments, every dinner I ever took you to, every book or bottle of wine I ever brought you, when you gave me the most perfect gift I could have ever imagined being given in my wildest dreams."

Aziraphale blinked, not understanding, and tilted his head. "I- What? I don't remember… What gift did I give you?"

"Yourself," Crowley answered immediately, without half a heartbeat's hesitation, his grin speaking of the angel's stupidity. "Yourself you foolish, infuriating thing." 

Aziraphale was still blinking, the numbers having not quite computed, when Crowley brought their lips together again in a slow, deep kiss full of love and passion and _promise_. On the stage below there was a swell in the music that almost seemed as though it had been perfectly timed for the celestial pair in the highest balcony.

Aziraphale whimpered when Crowley finally pulled away again, which made the demon smirk. Long fingers worked down through the angel's hair to caress the back of his neck and his shoulders. "So while I appreciate the thought," Crowley purred softly, "I don't need you to wear clothes you don't want to wear, or hold doors for me, or make a point of making sure everyone in a mile radius knows that we're together." A chuckle rocked the demon's shoulders as he watched the pink flush spread across his angel's cheeks. "All I need is _you_."

Aziraphale's eyes fell to Crowley's chest. His hands had worked their way there at some point, the fingers scratching gently at the fabric there. He swallowed hard and subconciously leaned a little closer so that the demon' scent wafted up around him. 

Finally, after a long few minutes of Crowley waiting patiently, blue eyes rose back up to meet amber ones. There was a tiny smile on Aziraphale's lips. "Is it...is it okay if I _want_ to do those things though?" the angel asked. 

Crowley couldn't stop the little snort of laughter, but he hid it by squeezing Aziraphale close and burying his nose in fluffy white curls. "Of course, angel," he mumbled into those curls. "But only if you _want_."

They were still holding each other tight, enveloped in each other's warmth and scent, when intermission began on the stage below. 

"Angel?" Crowley mumbled with a grin and a bit of a snicker. 

"Yes darling?" Aziraphale replied.

"Would you like to maybe _watch_ the ballet now?"

"Only if you keep holding me, my love."

"I think I can handle that, angel. I think I can handle that."


End file.
